#and applied both to my skin and the fucking scent they create together is straight up intoxicating oh my GOD

[manonblaqkbeak]

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics with everyone’s favorite trope - sharing a bed! We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis' bed when he's cold. Louis pines.

2) Been Gone Way Too Long | Explicit | 8836 words

“This can’t be happening,” Louis says, banging his hand against the window. “This seriously can’t be happening right now.”

Things like this only happen in the movies. Things like this don’t happen in real life. There’s no way that he’s seriously been snowed in. There’s no way that the heating is broken. There’s no way that it’s going to take upwards of twenty-four hours and probably a lot longer for the storm to break and someone to come and rescue them.

“Just sit down, Louis,” Harry sighs from somewhere behind him. He sounds miserable, like he’s already feeling the cold.

Louis whirls around and points a finger at him. “Did you plan this?” he demands a little hysterically. He regrets the question as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but he thinks he’s got a valid point. It’s not like this storm just came out of nowhere - it has to have been on the news for a couple of days, at least. Plenty of time for Harry to have canceled this excursion.

3) I'm Trying Not To Make A Sound | Explicit | 10452 words

Louis thinks he could die right there. He can’t feel anything but the tingling sensation all over his skin. He’s throwing away all his past thoughts on trying to be straight and denying his reactions towards other men, he just wants more of this numbing feeling. Everything else is a long lost memory, can’t think of anything else besides, wow, this feels incredible.

4) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

5) Cuffed | Not Rated | 15254 words

What would you do if you were handcuffed to your enemy for 48 hours?

6) Up For It | Explicit | 18223 words

The one where Liam is Mr Organised, Zayn is too perceptive for his own good, Niall is a compulsive matchmaker, and Harry and Louis might just have the surprise to shock them all.

7) Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) | Not Rated | 18417 words | Sequel

Note: This fic has no smut, but it has omega Louis. The sequel has smut.

The one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?

8) The Aurora Zone | Explicit | 19633 words

The one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

9) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

10) Etched In Salt (Is A Cathedral Of The World) | Explicit | 24417 words

Note: This fic has BH mentions. It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 25868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

12) Always Come Back To You | Explicit | 28682 words

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

13) We’re Not Who We Used To Be | Explicit | 30611 words

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit.

14) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

15) Welcome Back From The Friend Zone | Mature | 32584 words

The one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Playing To Win | Explicit | 36732 words

Big Brother UK alumni Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are selected for the UK vs Australia All Stars series with a massive one million dollar prize in the offing. They’re both fit and smart and would make a great alliance... if only they can stop their feelings from getting in the way.

19) If I Stay | Mature | 37226 words

Harry and Louis agree to a temporary arrangement that Harry can't seem to walk away from no matter how many times he tries.

20) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

21) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

22) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

23) No Going Back | Explicit | 56102 words

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

24) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

25) Swallow The Knife | Explicit | 76158 words

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

26) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

27) Perfect Storm | Explicit | 80230 words

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

28) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Mature | 102528 words

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[bitchassbucky]

Ｔｗｉｎｅｄ: Ａ Ｓｏｕｌｍａｔｅ ＡＵ

📎Word count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: Mentions of death, f-bombs galore. MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: Hey lovelies <3 @honeyvbarnes​ and I worked on this Soulmate AU and we hope that y’all like it! I loved working with my bff and we’ll do it again hopefully <3 enjoy!

📎Honeyvbarnes’s Masterlist

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

When Bucky Barnes died back in 1943, he died knowing that he lived his life without a soulmate. 

When he turned eighteen, he waited for a flash of annoyance, stress, or anything emotionally malicious that came from his soulmate since emotional pain is supposedly said to connect two wandering souls no matter how far they are from each other.  

A bit sadistic, Steve Rogers would say. But Bucky would always counter his friend’s point with, “you see, Stevie when your soulmate gets hurt, you’re the only one who can hear them-- at least in your head-- and you can help them, you can help them find you,” 

“Still, I don’t want someone to suffer just to make a connection with me,” Steve said, ever a gentle-hearted (but strong-headed) person.

“They’re not gon’a. Annoyance is enough for them to create a short connection,”

“What I’m hearing is that I get a pass for annoying you more,”

It’s hot. Searing. Humid. The air is so thick, you can almost choke on it.

The beach is filled with people-- couples and families mostly and your mind wanders to soulmates.

You never had one and as far as you’re concerned, you’re better off without one.

Since your eighteenth birthday, you felt a great deal of stress coming off from your soulmate. You had to go through various therapy sessions, evaluations, and couple’s counseling since the supposed love of your life won’t answer to your pleas and calls as to what the fuck is going on inside their head.

They never let you in and it seems like they will never let you in.

Not now and not ever especially since the torment of nightmarish inner turmoil had subsided; granted, there are still some night terrors but it doesn’t compare to the pain you felt back then.

You started thinking maybe they were in the army or something of that sort. 

Maybe, maybe. What if, what if

That’s your inner turmoil; the boiling water inside the pot. 

You weren’t sure where to start looking for them-- you spent years trying to get through but you never get as much as a word.

So you gave up.

And not a lot of people give up on their soulmates, at least not the ones who never had to spend literal years of their lives trying to coax out a word out of their loved one.

You still get worried and anxious about them. You still try to comfort them after a particularly bad nightmare even though you know they won’t answer back to you. You still tell them that you’re always there, ready to give the comfort only a true soulmate can give.

You wanted to give them warmth not knowing that they dislike the heat.

Bucky had always hated the summer. He hated how everything is so warm and dry and humid. He hated how he can’t stay bundled up in dark sweaters and jackets, he hated the way that the glow of the scorching sun brings out the best in people. 

He prefers the cold. The harsh winters remind him of his past, and he likes to suffer, he allows the despair and loneliness to settle deep in his bones. The heat of the summer makes it more difficult for him to keep his mind separated from yours. 

Bucky Barnes died back in 1943 without a soulmate, but after his resurrection in Wakanda, he knew you were there. The dull feeling of annoyance would come in waves and he knew you hadn’t felt him yet. 

Oh, but you did, he came to realize. Over the years, Hydra had control over him, his mind, and his soul. The constant wipe of his memories not even sparing a chance for him to feel emotion, to feel you. The harsh realization that you had to feel the same pain he had, makes him sick. 

Thinking of the years of abuse and torture makes him want to apologize profusely, but would you even understand? Would you ever love the person that’s caused you so much pain? He doesn’t know who you are or your age, and the fact that his soulmate lives in an era where he was never meant to live in, still confuses him to this day. 

So he’s built up walls, a mind blockade in hopes that you’d move on without him. He doesn’t deserve love after all that he’s done. Mostly, you don’t deserve him as a soulmate. You deserve better, he thinks. 

He feels guilty shutting you out, but he forces the guilt away because he knows you can feel that too. On his bad days, you still assure him that he’s not alone in this world. You give him warmth to soothe his ice-cold heart, but he rejects it, doesn’t want it, doesn’t deserve it, he’ll tell himself. 

One fateful summer day changed that though. 

As Sam Wilson finished packing the car with what he calls ‘beach essentials’, Bucky Barnes had his mind a thousand miles away. 

“You okay, tin man? Got your sunscreen?” His dark-haired friend chides soothingly. Sam was wearing a red Hawaiian shirt, his Raybans clipped onto his lapel, and his skin smelled of berries and shea butter; he smelled and looked like the personification of summer himself.

“Let’s go, Wilson; I don’t have the patience of getting stuck in traffic with the both of ya,” Bucky rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, his hair tied in a low bun, he was wearing a baseball shirt and a summer-themed beach short with seagulls on it, as per Sam’s request. His skin glistened with the newly applied sunscreen he snatched from his go-bag. 

“And what’s so bad about it?” Steve wore a flannel and dark jeans combo, his baseball cap was on backwards, because ‘I wanted to try something new,’ he said, and he opted for a pine-scented suntan lotion instead, deciding to get a slight tan.

Bucky decided not to answer the question.

The ocean mist filled your senses as your book chapter hits its end. Putting down the easy-reading material, you stretched out and propped up yourself, thinking if you should join the other beachgoers in the water.

Giving it a quick thought and then glancing at the beach’s showering station, you decided against splashing around. This is more of a reading day for you.

You picked up your dog-eared book again and started to read when a good gust of wind kicked up the sand, sending a few grains your way, you quickly closed your eyes and yet, just as fate intended, you ended up with sand particles in your left eye.

“Ow, what the--” Bucky instinctively put up his arm to protect his eyes when a breeze flew past them, “something’s in my eye.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckity-fuck.

Your eye has been invaded by sand and it feels like it’s scratching your cornea raw. You can think straight, you’re in pain albeit minimal, it’s still pain.

You try to scramble for the bottle of water you kept close for hydration, hoping it will be enough to put you out of your misery, washing out the sand.

“Something’s definitely in my eye, Sam, I feel it,” Bucky tries not to squirm so much under Sam’s touch, but the pain feels almost invisible, like it’s not his.

“Stop moving so much, I can’t see anything,” Sam said, reaching into his bag to get his eye drop he was saving especially for this occasion, “I got your back. Don’t tell me that I overpack ever again,”

Drenching yourself in water was better than the agonizing pain you felt not five minutes ago. Your left eye was red, pulsating, and tearing up like a mad dog in a shed; perhaps this was your cue to pack up and go home.

Then you feel that magnetic pull again. Stronger this time.

You suddenly remembered the lore and the tall tales of the universe pulling soulmates together, literally, if they were close enough to each other. You try your best not to walk to your left side as the pull dictates.

“Where are you going, Buck? Our spot’s right here.” Steve said, unpacking the food he prepared for their beach day. Sandwiches, chips, fresh fruits, and beer are already in place when Bucky felt a strong pull to his left side.

“I just- I gotta check something out,” He said, not knowing where his feet are taking him.

The lore said when you meet your soulmate, the gravity will shift around you. The magnets of your souls will push you towards each other even if you try to pry yourself away. Your bodies were from the same asteroid before and now the universe wants you together again.

You feel your skin prickle as you try not to look behind you. You’re familiar with the tales, the personal anecdotes, how it feels to be pulled towards your literal soulmate.

Bucky just stands in the sand, his eyes not wandering too far from where you’re standing, your back behind him.

Is this it? Is this his soulmate?

What if you hate him? What if you don’t want to be with him?

Bucky’s heart quickens with the thoughts, his anxiety riddles his brain as he tries to come up with something to call you.

When the pull is strong and the bond is unbreakable, rare cases of soulmates knowing each other’s names before they met is attainable. 

A single name popped up into Bucky’s head, “Y/N.”

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back- Christmas Bonus

A/N: I am so sorry I didnt post this sooner. I’ve been having a really hard time with my mental health recently and everything outside of my job fell to the wayside. This chapter contains straight smut and straight filth. Please heed the warnings and if you are not into it, it is not necessary to read this chapter. The ending fell a little flat but I still like it. I hope you guys like it too. As always, feedback is appreciated and much love. -Em Contains SMUT under cut 18+. Warnings: Daddy kink, no condom use but she has an IUD, orgasm denial, being held down, begging. This is pure filth for a while guys. 

What Addy bought at Target 1 What Addy bought at Target 2 What Addy bought at Target 3

Finally, after what felt like a year after the last two months we had, December rolled around. Christmas. I hopped out of bed on Sunday morning and grabbed the flannel Monty was wearing yesterday. With a joyous grin, I grabbed my gingerbread man mug and made a pot of Starbucks holiday blend. I poured myself a mug and inhaled the first of my favourite scents of Christmas. My stomach grumbled. “Right. Breakfast.” Sitting down to eat my cheese toast, I was interrupted by soft footsteps coming in the room.

“Morning Babydoll.”

“Morning Love. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, you didn’t. Rolled over and you weren’t there is all.” His voice was still gravelly with sleep.

“Okay. After I finish my coffee we can go back to bed if you want.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“I never said we had to go to sleep.” I peered over my mug and watched his face perk up at the possibilities.

“Can you hurry?” I giggled and threw back the rest of my coffee.

“We could just… stay here. If you want.” His eyes widened.

“You mean….”

“Mhmm.”

“Fuck I love you.” Monty muttered as he took three large steps towards me while I moved to put my plate away.

He grabbed my wrist, twirled me around, and kissed me playfully. I smiled and kissed him back before he lifted me up and placed me on the counter. He began kissing along my jaw and down my neck. I sighed deeply and ran my fingers through his hair. My other hand was wrapped around his bare bicep. His fingers deftly undid the few buttons on his flannel I had done up when I put it on. Reaching for the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, I tugged on them slightly. He growled lowly and I whimpered. “What do we say when we want something Babydoll?”

“Please?” I whined.

“Please what?”

“Please Daddy?” I looked at him with doe eyes.

“Not yet.” He rumbled gruffly. I huffed and he looked at me sharply. I immediately hung my head to hide my smirk. He tilted my head to the side and nipped at my neck again, biting down at the juncture where my neck and shoulder met. I closed my eyes as his hand began trailing down my body to my panties. “Don’t think I didn’t see that smirk Doll.” I whimpered softly. He hadn’t moved his hand to touch me or move my underwear or anything. Gripping the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles were white, I waited. And waited some more. He continued ravishing my neck and chest, though never quite where I wanted it. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please Daddy?”

“Please what Doll? Use your words and tell me what you want. Don’t move.”

“Touch.” My voice sounded small and weak. He had hardly touched me, and I was already so far gone I could barely form coherent thoughts.

“Touch? Is that how we ask for things we want?” He taunted before swatting my thigh. “I’m not going to remind you again.” I had to fight not to squirm at the implication of what would come after that final warning.

“Please touch me Daddy.” I begged.

“Touch you where?”

“Everywhere.” I gasped, growing more and more frustrated. He chuckled lowly. Even though I knew he wouldn’t touch any of the no go zones and I trusted him completely, the sound still sent a chill down my spine. Even still, I kept begging. I wanted, no. I craved, no. I needed his touch. My body felt like it was on fire and his touch was the only thing that would put it out.

“Well, isn’t someone a needy little thing this morning?”

“Mhmmm. Yes Daddy.”

Finally, he pulled at the waistband of my panties and lifted me up with one arm, just enough to get them below my butt. He put me back down and I shivered at the feeling of my hot skin against the cold marble. I watched with bated breath as he dragged his fingers from my belly button down to my clit. I knew better than to complain when he stopped just short of touching my sensitive bundle of nerves. It took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to ask again. I simply stared at his hand, not moving, hovering just above where I craved his touch most. “Please rub my clit Daddy.” I whimpered softly, as though I was divulging my deepest secret. His fingers were rubbing my clit in soft, quick circles as soon as the words left my mouth. I felt him smirk against my breast as he listened to my depraved moaning and whines. He left little bite marks on the sensitive skin. I felt his other hand move from my waist to my hyper-sensitive nipple. Crying out when he brushed against it, I bucked slightly. He was gentler this time when he rubbed the nipple. He barely brushed it with his fingertips. Meanwhile, the pressure and speed he applied to my clit was gradually increasing. I felt the familiar knot in my stomach starting to tighten and just when I was about to cum, he stopped touching me all together and stepped away from me. He knew my body so well now, that I didn’t even need to ask for permission the first time. I cried out at the loss of sensation, even though I knew it was coming.

After giving me a few minutes to calm down, he was back to rubbing my clit. It was softer this time. But due to the increased sensitivity, it was harder and harder to stay still. He used his arm to hold me in place by my waist. “If you don’t stop squirming, I will fuck you on the counter.” He grumbled. The thought made my heart flutter. We hadn’t done that since we got back from our honeymoon. My hips bucked involuntarily. I had to stop myself from begging. “Oh, well. Does the needy little thing want to be fucked on the counter?” I whimpered, unsure if he wanted a verbal answer. To be safe, I replied.

“Yes. Please fuck me on the counter Daddy.” He cursed under his breath and gently leaned me back. I couldn’t help the yelp that escaped at the cold sensation on my back. He stilled. I gave him two quick blinks to let him know I was okay. Words aren’t really working at the moment. I watched with wide, doe like eyes as he pushed his pants down and his cock sprung free. I itched to reach out and touch it but I knew that I would both be breaking a rule by not following an instruction and I would be cold again when I put my arm or arms back down. “Please Daddy?”

In a matter of seconds, he was inside of me. He covered my mouth to muffle the wanton scream that tore it’s way through my body. He uncovered my mouth and placed both hands on the counter for leverage. He was thrusting rapidly, and I felt the knot being to tighten again. “Daddy? Please? Can I cum?”

“I mean, I’m sure you can.” He taunted. I rolled my eyes internally.

“May I please cum?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.” I whimpered. I was positive I was going to cum. Just as I was about to go over the edge, he stilled and pulled out of me again. I choked on my whine and shivered. His eyes were dark as he stared at me. I watched him take a step towards the island and giggled in shock when he scooped me off the counter and carried me to our bed and dropped me in the middle of it. “Don’t move.”

“Yes Daddy.” I sat very still again. He’s looking at me. Just do something. For the love of God. It was getting harder and harder to stay still. I felt myself start to shake from focusing on not moving for so long. When I looked up, he was biting his lip and staring down at me. Is he trying not to laugh? Now? Really? “Please more?” I couldn’t take the silence or the waiting any longer.

“I didn’t think you’d last that long.” His brow raised and I bit back a retort.

“Please? I want to touch you.” I looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“You will get to. Just be patient.”

“Okay.” I squeaked. He knelt on the bed and crawled toward me. I fell onto my back when he got too close to keep me sitting.

“Let me have my fun first Doll.” He mumbled as he ran a finger up my thigh. It tickled.

“Mhmm.” Was all I could vocalize because he had begun rubbing around my folds again. His knuckle brushed my clit and my body jerked. I sucked in a quick breath. The heat hadn’t dissipated any between the kitchen and the bedroom. If anything, it had only grown more intense. I closed my eyes and felt a finger enter me. The slow, even thrusting made the knot in my stomach tighten a little more. When he added another finger, I groaned, and my hands went straight for his hair. He didn’t seem to care as much about me not moving anymore. I tried not to tug the closer I got to my orgasm. Pulling from the ends is not sexy pain. Once again, when he felt my orgasm approach, he pulled away from me. I sighed in frustration.

“Can I please touch you now Daddy?”

“Yes, you can. God yes you can.” I sat up instantly and reached out to him. I bit my lip as I considered my options. To tease or not to tease… that is the question. “Don’t even think about it.” He threatened, though it was a loose threat.

“Fine.” I smiled at him and reached out to run my fingers along the underside of his cock. He sighed deeply. Growing even less patient, I wrapped my hand around the base and began stroking carefully. I took my cues from his breathing and the quiet moans he tried to hide. I sped up my stroking and twisted my wrist a little.

“Jesus.” He muttered. I went to let go but he slapped his hand around my wrist. “Don’t stop that.”

Taking that as a clear enough cue to keep going, I continued with the rhythm I had created for myself. I switched hands a couple of times when my wrists started to hurt. I was only half surprised when he tore my hand away from him and sat up, only to push me down onto my back and climb on top of me again. He never was one to give up control for too long. I couldn’t stop the laugh and grin that seemed like it should have killed the mood. If anything, it made it even more intense. Raising my arms above my head, I held one hand in the other, so my palms were facing up. He smirked at me and in one smooth motion he entered me and placed his hand on my wrist, effectively pinning me down at two points. Almost all of his weight was on the other arm, so he didn’t hurt me though. I wrapped my legs around his waist when we built a good enough rhythm that worked for both of us. My hips matched his thrust for thrust. I cried out when he thrusted particularly hard. He kissed me softly and slowed down a tad. I could tell he was getting close when his thrusting began to lose some regularity and he began panting slightly. I clenched to hold back my impending orgasm, unsure if he was going to let me cum or not. I would be satisfied either way. “You can cum.” He said into my ear. My head was so fuzzy that it sounded far away. After a couple of beats, his words computed in my mind and I moaned loudly. A couple of rough thrusts later, the knot that had been building all morning, finally snapped. Everything went black for a few seconds. I came back to reality just as he was reaching his own orgasm. He somehow managed to slip out of me and roll onto his back without falling on me. He was panting heavily. Or maybe that was just me. I couldn’t be sure. I rolled over gingerly and curled up against him. His heart was racing when I rested my head on his chest. He moved to hold me and run a finger through my hair while we caught our breath.

“That was… very good.” I panted after a bit.

“Yes, it was.”

“Like holy crap. I don’t know if I can get up and walk.”

“I think I’ll need to ice my knee after that. Don’t think that’s what my physiotherapist meant by light physical activity.”

“That’s okay.” I sat up and grinned at him. Now that I had caught my breath and calmed down, I was ready to get back into the Christmas spirit.

“Why are you so chipper this morning?”

“It’s December first.”

He nodded and then his eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Do I have to go with you?”

“Yes. I’ll need your help lifting the tree. You know, with your superior upper body strength.”

“Don’t start Doll. Teasing isn’t going to make me any more inclined to be excited for this.”

“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” I smirked at him. “I’m going to shower, if you want to join me.”

“I’m alright. You go on ahead sweetheart.”

“Suit yourself.” With that, I skipped off to the en suite. The hot water felt exquisite on my back. Would be better with company.

Once clean, I wrapped myself in a decidedly too short to be decent towel and went back to get some clothes. I could feel Monty’s eyes on me, trailing up and down as I walked over to our closet and examined my options. I spotted the burgundy miniskirt and smirked, a deliciously devious plan already beginning to form in my mind. Grabbing it off the hanger, I went to my dresser and pulled out a black strapless one piece and sheer black tights. Sprinting back to the bathroom before he could get a glimpse, I slammed the door. I emerged a little while later and Monty was no longer in bed. I hadn’t heard him get up and leave.

“Shower’s free.” I called. I walked over to the couch just as he looked up.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a min- you aren’t leaving the house in that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll put on a sweater. You don’t think it’s cute?”

“Then the sweater doesn’t come off. And cute isn’t the word I would use.” He grumbled.

“Fine by me. Are you going to shower so we can go soon?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting to it. Not like the store is going to run out of Christmas decorations in twenty minutes extra.” He stood and walked to our room, closing the door behind him.

“You never know.” I called behind him. I heard his loud laugh in response.

True to his word, twenty minutes later we were on the road to the Target. We made a quick stop at Starbucks once we got in the city. “That is basically just coffee flavoured sugar, you know.”

“I got it half-sweet. It’s my holiday drink.” I stuck my tongue out at him and took a long sip of my caramel brûlee latte.

“I know it is baby. It’s cute. Gross and just sugar, but you get so excited about it.”

I blushed deeply, “shut up and drink your boring, plain, very un-festive coffee.” I muttered.

“I can show you festive later, Doll.”

“I told you to put those horrendous velvet boxers in the trash.”

“I know, I know.”

We arrived at Target and I practically leapt out of the car. I had a cart and was at the door by the time he caught up with me. “Slow down Bookworm.”

“Sorry. I’m just excited. Come on, we have lots to get.” He laughed as he followed me in the store. It wasn’t too busy yet so we were easily able to navigate to the right department. That also meant we still had fairly good choices for décor options.

“First thing’s first. We need to pick a tree.” I told Monty, gesturing to the collection of trees.

“Okay.”

“How big do we want to go?”

“Knowing you, probably above average.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes and ignored his double entendre.

“Is seven feet okay? We will probably get a bigger tree in a few years.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” We made our way to the appropriately sized trees. “I don’t want a skinny tree.”

“No, but it can’t be too fluffy either. Do you feel like fighting with lights every year?”

“Not particularly.”

“Pre-lit then.” We examined our options and I pointed out a decently fluffy but not overly so, warm green tree with warm lighting. It also happened to be under a hundred dollars and on sale. “What about this one?”

“I like it.” He pulled the box off the shelf and slid it on the bottom of the cart.

With that decided, we moved on to decorations in the next aisle over. I gave a cursory once over to the options by running down the aisle quickly before asking for an opinion. “What do you like? And do we want to go traditional or cutesy?”

“They’re all different kinds of balls Addy.”

“I know. What do you like?” I asked and then added, “I’d prefer to be dealing with a different kind of balls but here we are,” under my breath.

“What was that?” Monty asked, abandoning the cart and coming over to wrap his arms around my waist to ‘help’ me look.

“Nothing. Will you at least tell me if you want baubles or doodads?”

“Baubles? I think? What’s the right answer?”

“Balls or pickles with googley eyes and junk.”

“Balls. But maybe a few special ones?”

“Okay.” Having come to an agreement on the type of decorations, I gave the aisle another, more in-depth examination. “Red?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Red and gold or red and silver?” I muttered to myself. I thought for at least a few minutes silently. “Gold?”

“I don’t-.”

“Silver?”

“They-.”

“Silver with a pop of gold?” I suggested, raising my brow.

“You aren’t talking to me. Okay. I’ll just be over here with the… nothing and tree in the cart.” After a few more minutes of silent contemplation and muttering to myself, Monty spoke up. “You are obviously going to be a while. I’m going to go get some groceries. Do you want me to grab anything or think we need anything?”

“Yeah, can you grab me a box of regular tampons please?”

“Sure. The regular size I assume.”

“Great thanks babe.” I muttered distractedly.

A little while later, he came back with the groceries. I was still trying to decide on tree ornaments. “You haven’t made a decision yet? I’ve been gone for like twenty-five minutes.”

“Huh? Has it really been that long? I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Red and silver balls and like a few extra ones?”

“Whatever you choose babe.” I nodded and grabbed a couple of sets of balls. We had to rejig some of the groceries but eventually everything fit nicely. It was time to move on to deciding what extra ornaments we would get. That was significantly easier because we could just grab ones we thought were meaningful. We also settled on a silver glittery star for the top.

“We need a wreath or two as well.”

“Why?”

“For the door and mantle.” I shrugged.

“Alright? I will never understand your obsession with Christmas and decorating, you know?”

“It makes the house feel warm and cozy.” He only shook his head and smiled at me in response. We grabbed a couple of the cheapest wreaths we could find and a couple of strings of lights to go on them. I also snuck a couple strings of pine garland in the cart. The stocking aisle was daunting. There were so many choices. Cable knits, fuzzy, monogramed, patterned, oversized, mini… okay not the mini ones… plain, all colours of the rainbow. “Which one do you want?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do we want to match?” Monty and I looked at each other and made faces.

“No.” We said in unison. We stood in the aisle weighing our options.

“What if we picked each other a stocking?” Monty suggested.

“That’s a great idea. Time limit?”

“Five minutes.”

“I need at least ten.”

“Ten then.” We shook on it and then set about choosing our partner the perfect stocking. I hemmed and hawed about what one to get him. I swiped through them a few times, tuning out the other people in the aisle and focusing solely on the task at hand. I flipped through the racks and didn’t like any of the options. Finally, at the back of a rack, I found the perfect one. It was manly but not overly so. It didn’t say ‘my wife picked this’. And there was a handy little pocket for some candy on Christmas morning.

“Took you long enough.” Monty teased from his spot at the cart.

“How long did it take you?”

“All of two minutes.” I looked in the cart and smiled at his choice.

“It’s perfect.” We grabbed some mantle hooks as well before moving on to get some decorations and decorative blankets and throw pillows.

“Why do women need six hundred pillows for every season?”

“I don’t know. Why do men have a chair and two spoons when they move out on their own and consider a mattress on the floor a bed?”

“We are simple creatures.” I had to bite my lip to hold back a laugh. He continued to push the cart while I threw a couple of fuzzy blankets in.

In the kitchenwares aisle, I tried to find a silver bowl for the coffee table that wasn’t atrocious or looked like it had been passed up by everyone in the thrift store. “Pop of gold it is.” I muttered, placing the bowl in the ever growing pile.

“Hey babe, do you like this… uh… bowl with knives?”

“It’s cute! We need it.”

“Need?”

“Yes.” I nodded simply. He put it in the cart. I grabbed a couple of packs of decorative napkins. “I think we are all set.”

Once we were home and the plethora of bags were in a semi-neat pile in the living room, I went to change into something more comfortable and seasonally appropriate. I settled on a pair of pj pants and a Christmas sweater. Monty had started to unpack the groceries and organize them to be put away. I went up and hugged him from behind. “Thank you for going with me to the store today.” I kissed his back.

“Of course. Why don’t you start going through the bags in the living room? Or did you need help moving the coffee table?”

“I’ve got it. You sure you’re all good here?”

“Yeah. I know you’re itching to Christmas-ify the house.” I nodded excitedly and ran to the living room after putting the kettle on for some hot cocoa.

I pushed the coffee table into the corner of the sectional and began going through bags. Tree decorations were stacked on top of the Christmas tree box. Décor bits were set in a pile on the table. Pillows and blankets in another pile. The kitchen type things were placed on the couch. I was quite literally surrounded by Christmas. This is. Awesome. I giggled and turned on the fireplace.

“Having fun?”

“Huh?” I looked up and Monty was standing right behind me. “Why yes I am.”

“What do you want done first?”

“Can you get the tree out and fluffed please? Put it in the corner by the window?”

“Sure. I’ll plug it in and make sure it works.”

“Thank you. I’m going to put the bowl in the kitchen and start the laundry for these.” He nodded and we went about our tasks.

While I was getting the laundry going I heard Carter in the living room. “Fucking tree. ‘Can you fluff it?’ with that cute little face. Stupid job. Who’s idea was it to need to fluff it anyway. Urg.” This is amusing.

“Having fun babe?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well if I did it, only the bottom four and a half feet would be fluffed.”

“Mhmm.”

“Would you be happier if I put some cookies in the oven?” I bribed.

“Maybe.”

“Okay.” I went into the kitchen and set the oven for the snickerdoodles.

“Um. Addison?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“Did you buy a bag of pinecones?”

“Yeah, why?” I asked, walking back over.

“I’ll ask again. Did you buy a bag of pinecones?”

“Where else was I supposed to get them?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Maybe outside?”

“Those ones are all dirty and breakable.”

“The pinecones are all di-.” He paused and sighed. “You know what? Never mind.” I smiled and kissed the top of his head before grabbing the bowl and dumping the bag of not from the outside pinecones into it. We spent the rest of the day decorating the tree and drinking hot cocoa together. It was a perfect Sunday.

The next morning, I wrangled Monty out of bed with the promise of a coffee run on the way to school. While he had a shower, I got dressed. I danced around our room while I picked out a maroon long sleeve jersey knit dress and a pair of black ankle boots. I was picking out some jewelry when Monty spoke, startling me. “Orange or blue?” Turning, I thought over the flannels he held out to me.

“Blue.”

“Okay.” He shrugged it on over his black t-shirt. Monty made his way across the room and pointed to the silver necklace in my jewelry box. “That one.” I smiled and put it on.

“Any other suggestions?”

“I could make a few but we can’t play hooky again. I can think of one accessory that would make the look though.” I looked at him quizzically. He smirked and leaned in to kiss my neck. He nibbled and sucked on the spot just behind my ear, forming a small hickey. I reached up and wrapped my arm around his neck.

“You are so mean. How am I supposed to cover this in class?”

“Leave your hair down.” He shrugged, satisfied with the job he had done. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. He narrowed his. “You want to do that again Doll? I’m sure you could think of an excuse for being late. Not being able to sit comfortably might be harder to explain though.”

“No.” I grumbled. I was kidding.

“Have you seen my leather jacket?” I asked when we were getting ready to leave.

“Last I saw it was in the front closet.” I nodded and grabbed it along with my bag. “You look nice today by the way.” Monty said as he took my hand after he locked the door.

“Thank you.” I blushed. We stopped at Monet’s and ordered our usuals before driving to school.

“Addy!” Monty’s friends greeted me as we walked towards them. “Oh, hey Monty.”

“Hey guys.” I smiled.

“Hey friends who were mine first.” Monty grumbled.

“Awe, is someone jealous?” Matt mocked.

“No.”

“You stole Justin from me so shhh.”

“I did not steal him from you. You two are a package deal.”

“Mhmm. Sure Honey. That’s why he comes over to see you twice a week.” He pouted as his friends laughed around us. “Would you feel better if we stopped for almond milk on the way home and I made you a smoothie?”

“Yes. It would.” I smirked slightly to myself. Of course, it would. The topic changed to what we had done over the weekend. I tuned some of it out, searching for Justin. Please don’t be with Jess.

“So, what did you two get up to? That we want to hear about.”

“We went to Target and bought Christmas decorations.”

“You mean you dragged me to Target for four hours to buy Christmas decorations.”

“That’s what I said.” I shrugged, grinning wildly. His-our-friends blinked at me and then turned to Montgomery looking like they were scared I was going to have a seizure or something.

“She loves Christmas.” Justin stated, appearing behind Garrison.

“It looks like Christmas threw up in our house. It’s great.”

“Married life boys. This is what you have to look forward to.”

“You like it. It’s cozy.”

“Never said I didn’t like it, Bookworm.”

“Right. You just have an ‘image’ to uphold. Sorry.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Has she taken you winter candle shopping yet?” Justin asked.

“No. I don’t go with her for that anymore.”

“So, does that mean I have to take her?”

“I need someone to be the muscle.” I shrugged.

“I’m sure you’d manage Addy.” Bryce smirked. I rolled my eyes and turned to him.

“Bryce. I’m five foot two on a good day. I weigh like one fifteen soaking wet. I have the upper body strength of a limp noodle.” The boys around me laughed.

“This is why she gets the excited greeting, and you get a wave Monty.” Ryder pointed out. “She has jokes.”

Monty rolled his eyes, pushed Ryder into a locker jokingly. “Fuck you, asshole.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You could take Charlie.” Justin suggested. I contemplated that for a moment before the first bell, shrugged at him and went to class.  

Charlie and I went shopping for candles a couple of weeks later. “I don’t think there’s anything going on with Zach and Alex, Charlie. At least not that way.”

“Could you… ask him?” He asked as I opened the door.

“We’re home.” I called and dropped the heavy bag on the couch. Monty poked his head around the corner and nodded at Charlie.

“Hey.” He eyed the bag. “Did you buy the store out?”

“No. They still had some left.”

“Did she buy the store out?”

“No, I think she would have though.”

“That’s my girl.” He walked out of the kitchen with a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. I smiled and started pulling candles out of the bag. I arranged them neatly on an empty shelf and then greeted Monty with a hug.

“And why can’t you ask him Charlie?”

“Ask who what?” Monty quirked his brow.

“Alex about Zach.”

“Why would he as-. Oh. Dude. You can do so much better than Zach.” He turned to Charlie. When He didn’t respond, Monty’s eyes bulged a bit. “Standall? Alex Standall?” Charlie nodded awkwardly. “But he’s… Alex Standall. His dad is a cop.” I blinked, trying to erase our last encounter with the good deputy from my brain. Permanently.

“Babe. Don’t tease him. Alex is nice.”

“I know. He could still do better. A lot better.”

“I like Alex.” Charlie muttered. Good going dear.

“I know Charlie. I think it’s cute. Do you want a snack?”

“Sure.” Monty spoke up.

“Last I checked, you can walk without crutches.” I smirked.

“Charlie can walk too.”

“Charlie doesn’t live here.”

“I’ll take whatever’s easiest.” Charlie cut in from the couch.

“Char. What do you want? You know you don’t need to do that what’s easy for you thing here. You’re family.” I scolded.

“Do you have any cookies?”

“I might have to bake some but I think we have some dough in the freezer.”

“Sure.”

“Milk?”

“Yes please.” He called.

When our cookies were done, I put them on a plate and grabbed Monty a pack of fruit snacks. I chucked the bag at him when he looked up. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Charlie, you’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“What’s for dinner?”

I turned to Monty and raised my brow at him.

“I took out ground beef.”

“Spaghetti?” The boys nodded. “I’ll make it later.” I muttered and settled into the couch with my blanket.

“So why are you afraid to ask Alex about Zach?” Monty asked Charlie.

“I don’t know. I know they’re close and stuff so….”

Monty thought for a minute and took a bite of the cookie in my hand.

“Hey. I was eating that.”

“Sorry.” He said through the cookie, shrugging. I shook my head at him.

“This man….”

“You love me.” He thought for another minute and sat up quickly. “We could have people over for Christmas.”

I sat back, my eyes wide, slightly incredulous. “We could?” I never thought he would be this excited by the prospect of a house full of people, especially at Christmas.

“Well yeah. Why not?”

“I’m not opposed or anything per say but what do you mean by… people?”

“The team. And your friends. And Alex.”

“So, like… twenty to fifty people. In our house. All at once?”

“Maybe?”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. It could be fun. Please Addy?”

“Come on Addison? You always joke about being team wife now. Christmas is wife-y. They’re like my family. Plus, then Charlie can shoot his shot. Or at least be forced into interacting with Alex and can’t chicken out.”

“I’m going to need to make a lot more cookies.” I’ll just let them think they had to twist my arm. That actually sounds great. “And you have to help with grocery shopping.”

The next day I met Alex at his locker. “Hey Addy.”

“Hey.”

“What’s up?” He asked, grabbing a few books from his locker. I shrugged.

“Do you have plans over break?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Monty and I were thinking about having some people over for Christmas. Did you want to come?”

“Sure. Let me know when.”

“I will.”

“Alex!” Zach called, walking up to us. “Hey Addy.” He nodded, somewhat stiffly.

“Zach.” I nodded back. Alex glanced at me. I thought Monty was asking the team later. But I guess there’s no time like the present. “Oh, hey. Monty and I are having people over for Christmas over break. Did you want to come?”

“I’ll ask my mom, but I don’t see why not.”

“Okay.” Things were still pretty awkward between us and I wasn’t sure how to end our conversations, so I just kind of waved and excused myself.

Justin found me at lunch. “What’s this about a Christmas dinner and why am I hearing about it from someone who is Alex and not my best friend.”

“I didn’t think you needed an invite you Dork.”

“Still.” He muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Let Jess know she is welcome to come if she wants.”

“I will.” We walked into the cafeteria together and I caught Monty’s eye. He was sitting on a table laughing at Ryder. I nodded in the direction of my friends. He nodded back but did not make an effort to move.

“Hey Addy.” Came the chorus from my friends.

“Hey guys.” When the common pleasantries were out of the way, I offered up my invitation. “We are having some people over for Christmas during break if you want to come.”

“Sounds good.” Tony nodded.

“Caleb is welcome to come too Tony. The more the merrier. I have to mention that Monty is inviting the team too, so be prepared for that.”

Clay groaned. “Really?

“They’re his friends Clay. I’m not going to tell him they can’t come. Do you think I’m chomping at the bit to be the only girl in the house unless Jess comes?”

“You sit with them at lunch and stuff.”

“There’s a difference between wrangling a group of teenage boys for an hour and having a house full of men. Ask your mom.”

Monty texted me. Bryce is staying here this year while his parents go on some retreat thing or something. Is it okay if I invite him?

Sure, he is your friend after all. Just tell him to keep his shit together.

I will. Your friends down?

I think so. Alex and Zach said yes. Make sure you tell them not to bring stuff.

I felt a presence behind me. Clay and Tony looked up. I turned around.

“Oh hey Garrison.” I looked around him at the small group of athletes standing behind him. “Everyone else.”

“Monty said you’re having people over, over break.”

“Yeah, why?”  Did he leave out details like where we live or something?

“Can we do a gift exchange?” He asked, his voice raising as it filled with hope. There was a chorus of ‘ohh yes’ and ‘please’ around us. Monty walked over.

“I go to the bathroom and you guys migrate over to Addison? I see how it is.”

“They want to do a gift exchange.” I told him.

“I see. That could be interesting.”

“We can think about ground rules and get back to you guys?” I suggested. The group around me nodded and eventually dispersed.  

With a date and time agreed upon, along with a budget and ground rules for the white elephant, it was time to make a grocery list. Not before Monty so eloquently threatened our guests though. “If any of you bring a scented candle-or any candle-you will forcibly removed. Don’t need any more stupid candles. She will guard that candle with her life.”

I was sitting at the kitchen table with a large pad of paper and a pen. “Need any help?” Monty snuck up behind me, hair dripping from the shower. His grey sweatpants hung low on his hips.

“Turkey or ham? Or both?”

“Both.”

I nodded and wrote it down. “Is Coach bringing his wife?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” I spent some time working on the list while Monty got dressed. I was waiting with my purse in hand when he came out of our room. “Ready to go?”

At the store, I handed him the list so I could push the cart. I’m probably going to regret this. It was fairly busy, being so close to Christmas. “Please try to stick to the list.”

“I will.” He muttered, looking it over. “Addison?”

“Monty?”

“What are, and I quote, ‘snackys’?”

“Snack foods. I don’t know what to get.” He nodded and chuckled.

“You are so cute.”

“Not cute. Danger.”

“Mhmm. You keep telling yourself that Doll.”

I grumbled as I grabbed a couple of containers of salad. He chuckled again. “How many onions do we need?”

“A few. If they’re really big get like two? And like a couple of heads of garlic if they’re good.” A couple of minutes later, he was back with onions, garlic, and a celery. I grabbed a few bags of carrots and the other few vegetables we needed. Monty loaded the potatoes in the cart.

We made our way to the meat department and I spent some time going through the turkeys. “Can you go get a ham that’s between seven and ten pounds please?”

“Yeah.”

As we walked through the rest of the store, Monty stuck his hand in the back pocket of my jeans. I felt the slight squeezes he gave my butt occasionally but didn’t comment. Let the boy have his fun. I put him in charge of picking snacks for his friends and grabbed a few bags of Chex Mix for Justin to snack on. There was a rather large bag of gummies on sale, so we grabbed that and threw it in the cart. That might not last the two days until we have company.

“I’m driving into the city tomorrow to get a few more things from Target.”

“Sounds good. I’ll start on the cleaning then.” He offered.

It was the first Saturday since our fight that we didn’t have company for breakfast. That didn’t mean we got to sleep in, however. There was plenty to do. We were going to have a house full of people in a matter of hours.

“Addy.” Monty whispered, as I nuzzled closer into his chest. “Bookworm, it’s time to get up.”

“Sleeping.”

“We might have time for a quickie if you wake up now.”

“Hmmm. Sleeping. Shhh.” I muttered. I was starting to wake up. A quickie sounds nice. Maybe there will be time to cuddle after. And more sleep. I willed myself to unfurl my body from the fetal position I was in and look up at Montgomery. “G’morning handsome.”

“Good morning beautiful. Sleep okay?”

“Mhmmm. You?”

“Yes.” He leaned in to kiss me softly.

I couldn’t ignore the tight feeling in my shoulders. I pulled away to stretch. My shoulder cracked and I let out a downright obscene moan. He growled lowly beside me. I held up a finger and yawned. Feeling a little more awake, I leaned back in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around me and deepened the kiss. My hands wound their way around his neck as his arms wrapped around my waist. Monty rolled onto his back, taking me along with him. From my new vantage point on top of him, I was able to arch my back some more. This feels so good.

His hands traveled down to the hem of my pyjama shirt and slid it up. I pulled away so he could take it off and drop it unceremoniously on the floor. He held me out, so I was sitting in his lap, admiring me. It still makes me kind of uncomfortable. The way he looks at me. But he seems to enjoy it.  “Thought you said we only had time for a quickie.” I mumbled.

“A slow quickie.”

I ground my hips slightly and he moaned softly. “Slow?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Suit yourself.” I smirked. Slowly, I removed myself from his lap and stood beside the bed. My panties were then slowly slid down my legs. Partially because he emphasised the slow part. Partially because I was still tired and not super steady on my feet yet.  Once I was naked, I climbed back on the bed and straddled his lap again.

“Addison.” He muttered, a warning.

“You said slow.” I smiled cheekily. Though I intended to drag it out longer, I knew we were on a schedule. I couldn’t stand to wait either. He rolled his eyes. My hands went for the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. I was slightly unsteady and he immediately reached out to grab my hips. I smiled and nodded at his questioning look.

Now that I was steady, I was able to reach down and tug on his pants again. He lifted his hips to help me pull them down. Still holding my hips, more to hold me up in the air slightly so there were no… accidents… he kicked his pants off. His cock had sprung free and I deftly reached down to line myself up to take him. We both moaned loudly at the contact. I slowly inched myself down his length while I adjusted. I waited another minute after taking the whole thing to lift my hips again slowly. It took a few thrusts to get a proper rhythm going, but once I did, it was magical. Monty kept his hands on my hips, helping me keep the rhythm up. He thrust his hips to meet mine, matching slow thrust for slow thrust. I leaned down so we were chest to chest for a better angle and had to bite his shoulder harshly to keep from screaming. It’s too early in the morning for screaming.

As we both began chasing our highs, Montgomery flipped us over, so he was on top. I giggled in surprise. It turned to a moan halfway through when he hit that spot. I saw stars and tilted my head back. He took the opportunity to bite the crook of my shoulder. I could tell he was getting close and the knot that had begun building in my stomach snapped. I clutched his shoulders as my muscles tightened and my body curled in on itself. He reached his climax moments later. He was extra careful to keep his arms under my own. Don’t want a repeat of the time he lost his balance and squished me. Pulling out of me, he rolled onto his back. We were both breathing heavily and I looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Twelve minutes. I think that’s a new record.” He laughed and tapped me on the thigh.

“We need to get up now. And you need to go to the bathroom.” I sighed and pulled myself up. Grabbing my shirt, I ran to the bathroom and closed the door.

I emerged from the bathroom to find our room empty. The sound of the coffee machine whirring to life told me everything I needed to know about where Monty was. That and where else would he be at 8:34 on a Saturday morning? I grabbed a pair of sweats and went in search of a hot cup of coffee.

“Can you get the roasting pans out of the closet when you’re done that please?”

Monty gave me a thumbs up from his barstool. I made myself a cup of coffee and set it on the counter beside him. Hugging him, I noticed the teeth marks I left on his shoulder. “Does that not hurt?”

“It does. But I’m not complaining.”

We spent a little while enjoying our morning and quiet house before we had to start getting things ready for this afternoon. I made the butter for the turkey while Monty got the roaster out and started chopping vegetables. “Remind me to thank Mum for this chopping thing again.”

“I will.” She had gotten us an oxo dicing chopper as an early Christmas gift when we told her we were having a large gathering of our own for Christmas. I was just getting the turkey out of the fridge when there was a knock at the door.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“It’s only nine thirty. People aren’t supposed to be here until like one at the earliest.”

“Can you guy open the door if you’re decent? Our hands are kind of full.” Justin called through the door.

I managed to get the turkey onto the counter without dropping it and ran to open the door. On our porch with their hands full were Scott, Charlie, and Justin. “We figured you could use some help. And we aren’t taking no for an answer today Addy.”

“Hey friends. Uh… yeah. Come on in. Put stuff,” I paused and looked around, “places I guess.”

“Hey Monty.” Charlie called as he and Scott put the extra folding table against the couch. “Dad said we could borrow this as long as we don’t break it.”

“That was nice of him. What’s the rest of the stuff you brought?” I asked, trying to take some of it.

“Our white elephant gifts and I wasn’t sure what to wear so I brought options.” He blushed. I smiled.

“Here, I’ll take this and go hang it in the guest room.” I took the garment bag from him and Justin’s button down to hang in the closet. Monty’s phone buzzed on the table.

“Can you check that Addy?”

“Yup. It’s from Garrison.” Is this like a fancy thing or… what am I supposed to wear?

Preferably clothes. We generally try to keep the house a no naked zone for people who don’t live here.

“Can someone send a mass text or something and tell people to wear whatever they want? If they want to look nice cool, but jeans and a t-shirt is fine too.”

“Sure.” Scott quickly typed the message and sent it. I sent one to my friends as well. With that sorted, along with all the other items that the boys brought over, we were able to turn our attention back to the kitchen. “Don’t even try to say you don’t need help Addison. You’re cooking for like 30 people.” Justin chided.

“Okay fine.” I huffed. “So, which one of you wants to get up close and personal with the turkey?” I grinned. The boys all groaned.

We spent the rest of the morning prepping, cooking, and getting the house ready to accommodate the influx of people. Around eleven, I excused myself to shower and get ready. I picked a burgundy fit and flare dress with a peplum sleeve. It was nice enough to say hostess but casual enough it wouldn’t make anyone feel out of place. I quickly applied some neutral makeup and grabbed an oversized hoodie to cover the sleeves while I cooked.

“Bathroom is free Monty.”

“Well don’t you look nice.” Scott smiled.

“So do you.” He had changed into a black button up.

Charlie stuck his head out of the guest room. “Help?”

I turned to face the door. He opened the door and held out a light blue shirt, a white shirt, a navy shirt, and a pink shirt. “Navy?”

“You think? It’s not too dark?”

“I think it’s nice. Go with the navy, right Scott?”

“Yeah. I agree. It matches your… face.” Your face? Why are boys.

“Addy.” Justin all but whined from the bathroom.

“Justy.” I whined back. I walked to the door and knocked.

“Tie or no tie?”

“What shirt are you wearing?”

“The grey one I wore to formal last year.”

“Black tie?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tie it?”

“No.”

“Then no tie.” There was a fumbling on the other side of the door, and it sounded like something fell before it opened. Odd. But okay. I looked up when Monty walked out of our room. He was wearing a burgundy dress shirt. “No. Go change.” I ordered, pointing back to the bedroom.

“Why? This is a nice shirt.”

“We can’t match.” He looked at what I was wearing and turned around promptly.

“Changing.”

“Is a tie too much?” Charlie asked.

“Maybe. How did you guys get ready on our wedding day? If shirts are requiring this much effort and consultation?”

“We bugged Margot and Monty’s mom. Pretty sure Lucy was getting ready to strangle us by the time we had to go outside.”

“It’s a wonder why.” I laughed. Monty came back in a much more appropriate and less match-y grey dress shirt. “Much better.”

People began arriving around one. Snacks were out for snacking. Everything was tidy. The few gifts for the exchange were under the tree to start the pile. I was the good hostess and answered the door when Monty didn’t. Some of the team arrived in a group. Thankfully Bryce wasn’t with them. I wasn’t quite ready to face him yet. Clay, Tony and Caleb arrived together. “Hey guys.”

“Hey Addy.” Tony greeted me with a hug.

“So, gifts go under the tree. There’s pop in the fridge, water in the water dispenser in the fridge, bathroom is there, if its occupied I trust you to use our en suite.” I slowed as Monty walked passed us and continued quietly, "just ignore the very obviously not my hair product on the counter.” The trio laughed around me. “Hey Clay, is Jessica coming?”

“I don’t know. I think her and Justin got into a fight or something. Or she had plans? Maybe it was plans?”

“Okay. Means I don’t need to deal with all of that today so I’m okay with that.”

Justin walked over to us, a cup of pop in hand. “Incoming.” He muttered. I knew who he meant without having to turn around. Bryce.

“Hey Addy.” He greeted me with a surprising amount of warmth.

“Hi Bryce. I’m glad you could make it.” I smiled. I had to smile or I was going to tell him how I really felt.

“I know you said not to bring anything but if my mom ever found out I went to someone’s house without anything….” He held out a small, scented candle to me. My eyes widened and I grabbed it quickly.

“Thank you. I’ll be right back, excuse me.” I dashed to our room and put the candle in my side drawer. “Sorry. He wasn’t kidding about the candle thing.” I motioned to the shelf. The boys nodded. That was strangely nice of him. We spent a few more minutes awkwardly trying to make small talk. We must have made quite the group. I was able to excuse myself under the guise of needing to go check on the oven.

Zach and Alex arrived a little while later. I greeted them at the door. It appeared by the way he greeted me, Zach had either moved on from his little hissy fit, or he was willing to put that aside for the day because, well it’s Christmas for us. I told them where to place their gifts and offered them a drink. When I caught Charlie’s eye, I nodded to him. “You look nice Addy.” Zach smiled.

“Thank you Zachy. You look nice too.” I smiled back. I was trying to figure out what we could and couldn’t say to each other. Thankfully, Matt came to my rescue and stole Zach away. “Before you ask, no I don’t need help in the kitchen.”

“How did you know I was going to ask?”

“Because I know you Alex. You can accompany me and watch if you want though.”

He smiled and we made our way through the much more crowded than usual living room to the kitchen. He pulled up a chair and I set about trying to get Charlie’s attention and also not cut myself with the knife. Finally, after I was almost out of things to chop, I managed to get his attention. He came over and started talking to Alex. It was obvious he was uncomfortable and unsure of himself, so I tried to help. “Charlie and I watch old movies together.” I offered. I tried to stay out of it but they were so awkward talking to each other, I couldn’t watch it anymore. I didn’t want to intrude so I tuned out their conversation. Eventually, the boys left me to my devices in the kitchen. Justin came for a refill and leaned against the counter. “So, Monty told Bryce to be nice to you. That’s what that thing was when he got here.”

“Told?” That doesn’t sound like the man I know and love.

“Threatened.” There we go.

“I see. Well. He could use some practice, but I think he did an okay job at it.”

“Yeah. I think he might realize that he fucked up that night too. I don’t know.”

“Maybe. Hey, so what’s going on with you and Jessica?”

“Nothing. She just had stuff to do today is all. She said Merry Christmas.”

“Tell her I said thanks.”

I was alone in the kitchen for a while when the oven timer went off. I looked up from refilling the cheese bowl. I checked the turkey. It was the prefect temperature, so I looked around for Monty to take it out of the oven. “Babe? Baby? Monty? Dear? Montgomery? Husband!” Great. I lost my husband in our own house.

“I think he went to the bathroom.” An indistinct voice called from somewhere in the crowd. I nodded.

“Can one of you very fine, stronger than me, not my husband men please come take the turkey and the ham out of the oven?” I called. To my surprise, Zach and Bryce appeared in front of me. I handed them each a pair of oven mitts and stepped out of the way, indicating where on the counter they could go. Covering them, I waited for the inevitable stupid comments from Bryce. When none came, I looked at him questioningly.

“What? It’s Christmas.” He shrugged. “Everyone has to be nice on Christmas. And besides, contrary to what you might think, I do like you Addison.” He walked away before I could respond. I stood, blinking after him.

“Did you need something? I thought I heard you calling me.” Monty spoke beside me.

“No I’m okay now.” He must have noticed the blank, confused look on my face.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He turned me to face him.

“Yeah. I’m good. Go mingle.” I kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way to entertain our guests.

When I started prepping the last few things to cook, six different people, including Coach Kerba, came and offered to help me. Between the crowd, the noise, the awkward interactions with Zach and Bryce Walker of all people I was starting to reach a bit of a breaking point. “No. I do not need help. Thank you for the offer. Now if you would all kindly get the hell out of my kitchen, that would be great.” I spoke lowly, so as not to disturb the rest of the guests. With that, I politely excused myself and motioned for Charlie to take over in the kitchen. I trusted him to not fuck it up or burn my house down. I made my way across the room and opened my bedroom door. Making sure it was shut firmly before sitting down on the bed, I put my head in my hands. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. The door opening slightly made me jump. “Hey, are you okay?” Justin asked as he discreetly entered the dark room.

“Yeah, I’m just taking a little break is all. It’s a lot of people and… well you know I’m not great with that.”

“I know.” He sat down and pulled me against his side. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I took another couple of breaths with him and stood. “I think I’m good now.” He nodded and we walked out of the room. The rest of the evening was wonderful and passed without incident. The gift exchange went off without a hitch and everyone left with full stomachs and hearts.

[the-melting-world]

The Gardener pt.4

Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener takes a luxurious bath...

~ 1.2k words

cw: soft lemon 🍋

Catch up on the Gardener Saga

Kipling had never had a bath like this before.

She was up to her neck in water so hot that it soothed. And thanks to all the oils she poured in, it left her skin and hair slick and heavily scented. As she submerged her entire body in the deep drum, she wished Asra was there to massage the soap into her hair. Her dark textured curls, laden with moisture, pooled and stretched all around her. They unraveled from tight coils to long spirals. Only water could create this effect. As soon as everything dried, her hair would return to its free, unbothered state. 

As Kipling came to the surface and stopped just so her nose was above the water, she wondered if Asra’s bath was going as well as hers.

It’s hard to believe that he’s right on the other side of that wall.

She looked out of the paneless window below at the palace grounds and then out at Vesuvia in the distance. The domed buildings and towers covered in mosaic tiles efficiently hid most of the ramshackle architecture and quilted corridors.

From this vantage point, she could start to understand how those who never left lofty perches like this could become one among the vain courtiers who were so out of touch with the rest of society.

Kipling closed her eyes and tipped onto her back. Though the room was warm from the steam of the bath, the parts of her body that met the air felt colder than the rest. 

Within seconds, her sensitive nipples created armor against the chilly breeze. 

Once again, Kipling’s thoughts took her back to the magician. And then further to the thought of his smirking mouth closing around one of her excited nipples. 

Her hand wandered to that very spot. The other drifted between her legs. The scented oils eased her fingers’ journey. Kipling’s spine arched as she synced the circular strokes of her thumb over her nipple with the rhythm of her other arm. 

The heat of the bath combined with her efforts made her perspire. Kipling kept Asra in her mind. She shut her eyes and made herself believe that he was in the bath too, touching and fucking her with his long, deft fingers.

“Oh!”

Kipling came, but it wasn’t as intense as she would have liked. She submerged herself a few more times, washing off the internal judgement that lingered long after the small climax. Though she had known of Asra for months, she reminded herself that they technically only met an hour ago. She wondered how she could be so eager to sleep with someone in such a short time.

The real question is, who wouldn’t want to sleep with Asra? 

Asra was the kind of handsome that one only read about in storybooks. Plus, he was intelligent, magically gifted, and one of the friendliest people she’d ever met. 

The more Kipling thought of how much of a catch Asra was, the more she realized that there could be no way he was a bachelor. He was too damn perfect. 

Kipling sighed. All of the heat and the oils were starting to make her feel suffocated. She climbed out of the bath, dried herself off, and put on the sheer slip that opened down the front. She noticed how its teal and gold design really complemented her skin tone. It gave her a suspicion that whatever outfit was waiting for her in the bedchamber would be of similar design.

Kipling took a few more minutes to apply the oils to her hair. Though she didn’t have her usual spread of butters and creams, what Nadia provided would get her through the rest of the afternoon. After evenly distributing the oils and removing any pesky tangles with her fingers, Kipling gathered up her towel and made her way out of the bath chamber.

To her surprise, Asra emerged very shortly after and joined her in the corridor. Kipling noticed how his entire face was several shades redder than normal. She would have assumed that it came from the hot bath if his body language wasn’t so stiff and his eyes weren’t darting every which way.

“Kipling! How was your bath?”

Asra’s sheer robe revealed much of his slender frame, but Kipling still felt at ease walking the palace halls with him.

“Very relaxing. I enjoyed myself.” She flashed him a contented smile. 

Instead of returning it, his face sobered. “You hair . . . it looks so different.”

She snorted. “Just wait. It’ll be a mess again by the time tea is over.”

Some of Asra’s seriousness dissipated. “If by a ‘mess’ you mean a natural halo of untamed beauty,” he gave her a pointed look, “then I am looking forward to it.”

Kipling laughed as they approached the door to their designated rooms. 

“See you there,” she said, letting herself inside. It came as a surprise when Asra’s arm shot out and blocked the door from closing.

Kipling blinked up at him. “Asra?”

He appeared to be struggling to find the right words. “Could I, perhaps, walk you to the parlor once we’ve finished getting dressed?”

Cheerfully, Kipling said, “Oh, of course! We did plan to sit together, didn’t we?”

“Yes. And,” Asra glanced down and then back up again, “Kipling, I wanted you to know that . . . you were on my mind just now. In the bath.”

She wasn’t sure why Asra would ever tell her this, but it brought so much heat to her core. The silence between the two of them stretched on. The magician bit his lip and looked down at the floor.

“My gods. That was . . . so inappropriate. You’ll have to pardon me. I don’t seem to be thinking straight today.”

He started to pull back from the door.

“Asra, wait.”

Kipling rested a hand on his chest and urgently gripped the collar of his robe, pulling him towards her. They both stared at the bold placement of her hand. Kipling relaxed her fingers so that her palm was spread across the surface of his right pectoral.

“I . . .” She shook her head, not believing what she was about to say. “While I was in the bath, I was thinking about you too.” 

They reestablished eye contact.

Then Kipling took a long breath before asking, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

A series of emotions passed over Asra’s face. “Uh – no. I do not.”

Just to be sure, she asked, “A boyfriend or . . . ?”

He looked off to the side. “Not that long ago, I did. But we’re done.”

Finally, Kipling removed her hand. “Okay. I was just curious. I’m . . . going to get dressed now.”

It took Asra a moment to realize that he was still holding the door open. He backed out of the nook and apologized. “Right! Right. I’m so sorry. I’ll go get changed too.”

Kipling watched him shuffle off. Then she closed the door and leaned against it. She didn’t start getting dressed until her heart stopped trying to beat its way out of her chest.

[bitchassbackup]

Twined: A Soulmate AU

Word count: 1,580

Warning/s: Mentions of death

A/N: Hey lovelies <3 @honeyvbarnes​ and I worked on this Soulmate AU and we hope that y’all like it! I loved working with my bff and we’ll do it again hopefully <3 enjoy!

Bitchassbucky’s Masterlist

Honeyvbarnes’s Masterlist

When Bucky Barnes died back in 1943, he died knowing that he lived his life without a soulmate.

When he turned eighteen, he waited for a flash of annoyance, stress, or anything emotionally malicious that came from his soulmate since emotional pain is supposedly said to connect two wandering souls no matter how far they are from each other.  

A bit sadistic, Steve Rogers would say. But Bucky would always counter his friend’s point with, “you see, Stevie when your soulmate gets hurt, you’re the only one who can hear them– at least in your head– and you can help them, you can help them find you,”

“Still, I don’t want someone to suffer just to make a connection with me,” Steve said, ever a gentle-hearted (but strong-headed) person.

“They’re not gon’a. Annoyance is enough for them to create a short connection,”

“What I’m hearing is that I get a pass for annoying you more,”

—

It’s hot. Searing. Humid. The air is so thick, you can almost choke on it.

The beach is filled with people– couples and families mostly and your mind wanders to soulmates.

You never had one and as far as you’re concerned, you’re better off without one.

Since your eighteenth birthday, you felt a great deal of stress coming off from your soulmate. You had to go through various therapy sessions, evaluations, and couple’s counseling since the supposed love of your life won’t answer to your pleas and calls as to what the fuck is going on inside their head.

They never let you in and it seems like they will never let you in.

Not now and not ever especially since the torment of nightmarish inner turmoil had subsided; granted, there are still some night terrors but it doesn’t compare to the pain you felt back then.

You started thinking maybe they were in the army or something of that sort.

Maybe, maybe. What if, what if

That’s your inner turmoil; the boiling water inside the pot.

You weren’t sure where to start looking for them– you spent years trying to get through but you never get as much as a word.

So you gave up.

And not a lot of people give up on their soulmates, at least not the ones who never had to spend literal years of their lives trying to coax out a word out of their loved one.

You still get worried and anxious about them. You still try to comfort them after a particularly bad nightmare even though you know they won’t answer back to you. You still tell them that you’re always there, ready to give the comfort only a true soulmate can give.

You wanted to give them warmth not knowing that they dislike the heat.

—-

Bucky had always hated the summer. He hated how everything is so warm and dry and humid. He hated how he can’t stay bundled up in dark sweaters and jackets, he hated the way that the glow of the scorching sun brings out the best in people.

He prefers the cold. The harsh winters remind him of his past, and he likes to suffer, he allows the despair and loneliness to settle deep in his bones. The heat of the summer makes it more difficult for him to keep his mind separated from yours.

Bucky Barnes died back in 1943 without a soulmate, but after his resurrection in Wakanda, he knew you were there. The dull feeling of annoyance would come in waves and he knew you hadn’t felt him yet.

Oh, but you did, he came to realize. Over the years, Hydra had control over him, his mind, and his soul. The constant wipe of his memories not even sparing a chance for him to feel emotion, to feel you. The harsh realization that you had to feel the same pain he had, makes him sick.

Thinking of the years of abuse and torture makes him want to apologize profusely, but would you even understand? Would you ever love the person that’s caused you so much pain? He doesn’t know who you are or your age, and the fact that his soulmate lives in an era where he was never meant to live in, still confuses him to this day.

So he’s built up walls, a mind blockade in hopes that you’d move on without him. He doesn’t deserve love after all that he’s done. Mostly, you don’t deserve him as a soulmate. You deserve better, he thinks.

He feels guilty shutting you out, but he forces the guilt away because he knows you can feel that too. On his bad days, you still assure him that he’s not alone in this world. You give him warmth to soothe his ice-cold heart, but he rejects it, doesn’t want it, doesn’t deserve it, he’ll tell himself.

One fateful summer day changed that though.

—

As Sam Wilson finished packing the car with what he calls ‘beach essentials’, Bucky Barnes had his mind a thousand miles away.

“You okay, tin man? Got your sunscreen?” His dark-haired friend chides soothingly. Sam was wearing a red Hawaiian shirt, his Raybans clipped onto his lapel, and his skin smelled of berries and shea butter; he smelled and looked like the personification of summer himself.

“Let’s go, Wilson; I don’t have the patience of getting stuck in traffic with the both of ya,” Bucky rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, his hair tied in a low bun, he was wearing a baseball shirt and a summer-themed beach short with seagulls on it, as per Sam’s request. His skin glistened with the newly applied sunscreen he snatched from his go-bag.

“And what’s so bad about it?” Steve wore a flannel and dark jeans combo, his baseball cap was on backwards, because ‘I wanted to try something new,’ he said, and he opted for a pine-scented suntan lotion instead, deciding to get a slight tan.

Bucky decided not to answer the question.

—

The ocean mist filled your senses as your book chapter hits its end. Putting down the easy-reading material, you stretched out and propped up yourself, thinking if you should join the other beachgoers in the water.

Giving it a quick thought and then glancing at the beach’s showering station, you decided against splashing around. This is more of a reading day for you.

You picked up your dog-eared book again and started to read when a good gust of wind kicked up the sand, sending a few grains your way, you quickly closed your eyes and yet, just as fate intended, you ended up with sand particles in your left eye.

—

“Ow, what the–” Bucky instinctively put up his arm to protect his eyes when a breeze flew past them, “something’s in my eye.”

—

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckity-fuck.

Your eye has been invaded by sand and it feels like it’s scratching your cornea raw. You can think straight, you’re in pain albeit minimal, it’s still pain.

You try to scramble for the bottle of water you kept close for hydration, hoping it will be enough to put you out of your misery, washing out the sand.

—

“Something’s definitely in my eye, Sam, I feel it,” Bucky tries not to squirm so much under Sam’s touch, but the pain feels almost invisible, like it’s not his.

“Stop moving so much, I can’t see anything,” Sam said, reaching into his bag to get his eye drop he was saving especially for this occasion, “I got your back. Don’t tell me that I overpack ever again,”

—

Drenching yourself in water was better than the agonizing pain you felt not five minutes ago. Your left eye was red, pulsating, and tearing up like a mad dog in a shed; perhaps this was your cue to pack up and go home.

Then you feel that magnetic pull again. Stronger this time.

You suddenly remembered the lores and the tall tales of the universe pulling soulmates together, literally, if they were close enough to each other. You try your best not to walk to your left side as the pull dictates.

—

“Where are you going, Buck? Our spot’s right here.” Steve said, unpacking the food he prepared for their beach day. Sandwiches, chips, fresh fruits, and beer are already in place when Bucky felt a strong pull to his left side.

“I just- I gotta check something out,” He said, not knowing where his feet are taking him.

—

The lore said when you meet your soulmate, the gravity will shift around you. The magnets of your souls will push you towards each other even if you try to pry yourself away. Your bodies were from the same asteroid before and now the universe wants you together again.

You feel your skin prickle as you try not to look behind you. You’re familiar with the tales, the personal anecdotes, how it feels to be pulled towards your literal soulmate.

Bucky just stands in the sand, his eyes not wandering too far from where you’re standing, your back behind him.

Is this it? Is this his soulmate?

What if you hate him? What if you don’t want to be with him?

Bucky’s heart quickens with the thoughts, his anxiety riddles his brain as he tries to come up with something to call you.

When the pull is strong and the bond is unbreakable, rare cases of soulmates knowing each other’s names before they met is attainable.

A single name popped up into Bucky’s head, “Y/N.”

[winduphaurchefant]

REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY » Reese Farouel

RULES.  Repost, don’t reblog! Tag 10! Good luck!

TAGGED BY. @to-the-voiceless

TAGGING. @fivebrights and anyone else who wants to do it since the rest of flowr has been tagged

BASICS.

FULL  NAME : Charalise Farouel

NICKNAME : Reese, which she uses instead of her actual first name. It stuck.

AGE : 28

BIRTHDAY : 28th day of the 6th umbral moon (12/28)

ETHNIC  GROUP : Elezen / Wildwood and Duskwight parentage

NATIONALITY : Sharlayan

LANGUAGE / S : Eorzean Common, Sharlayan, and bits of some niche languages.

ORIENTATION : Bi (is inexperienced with the concept of polyamory but might be willing to try if it comes up)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS : In flowrverse (our fc where we are All wol)) she’s most likely taken by Haurchefant because there’s absolutely no fucking way he’d die on her watch. In-game universe is less concrete, her self esteem is quite low so she doesn’t actively seek relationships but she’s prone to getting crushes easily; Urianger being one of them.

HOME  TOWN / AREA : The Sharlayan Colony, Dravania

CURRENT HOME : A small cottage on the very fringes of the Lavender Beds. Also technically Fortemps manor and her room in the Pendants.

PROFESSION : Scholar (in the literal sense), Adventurer, and Warrior of Light 

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Café au lait blonde. She used to have it quite long, reaching past her hips, not styled in any specific way but brushed at least. After the Seventh Umbral Calamity she’s kept it quite short for practical purposes and usually hacks away at it herself, much to her friend Lunya’s chagrin.

EYES : Almond shaped eyes of deep blue with a halo of gold around the pupil, accentuated by her thick brows which are uncommon for most Elezen.

FACE : An oval shaped face with a tall, straight nose. Not overly animated in her expressions since the calamity.

LIPS : Has somewhat pouty lips and a bad habit of lip biting

COMPLEXION : Fair skin that freckles easily, she has the ability to tan but makes sure to apply salves to her skin before leaving for areas with more intense sunlight. Lots of moles, with a few noticeable ones on her face.

BLEMISHES : None that are noticeable 

SCARS : A Lot. She has a very prominent scar across her back which she usually likes to cover up.

TATTOOS : None. She enjoys seeing other people’s tattoos but wouldn’t get one for herself, she hates feeling stuck with something.

HEIGHT : Average height for an Elezen at around 6��3″

WEIGHT : 180 lbs give or take, most of it is muscle

BUILD : Tall and lean, quite muscular but not very toned. Her muscles were built more for purpose and less for show, like a power lifter. She could probably roundhouse kick someones head clean off. Pear shaped.

FEATURES : Her prominent brows and two moles beside her right eye

ALLERGIES : No known allergies, but she can get sick very easily.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  When it was long she usually just wore it down and free flowing, she does the same with her short hair although it doesn’t flow as much.

USUAL  FACE  LOOK : Her expression is usually quite stoic with a hint of Very Tired to spice things up. Is known frequently to come down with a case of RBF

USUAL  CLOTHING : Loose tunics and some fitted trousers and boots when she’s sitting around researching or not doing much, she’ll just pile on armour as needed. Starts to wear things that are a bit more form fitting or aesthetically pleasing as she becomes more comfortable with herself.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Heights, being trapped, death, death of loved ones, failure, being abandoned, and... spiders

ASPIRATION / S :  To just be... content. Surrounded by people she loves and who earnestly love her in return.

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Empathetic, resilient, compassionate, she is the unstoppable force and the immovable object.

NEGATIVE  TRAITS : She is the unstoppable force and the immovable object. Tends to bottle her feelings and has a hard time trusting people. Self-sacrificing. Low self worth.

MBTI : INFP-T (Mediator) 

ZODIAC : Althyk (Capricorn)

TEMPERAMENT : Cross between phlegmatic and melancholic

SOUL  TYPE / S : Server

ANIMALS : Dire wolf, lioness, sparrow

VICE HABIT / S: Prone to bouts of just... lying there. Doesn’t sleep very well so she ends up half finishing a lot of things.

FAITH : Unsure

GHOSTS ? : Yes.

AFTERLIFE ? : Possibly

REINCARNATION ? : Possibly

ALIENS ? : Anything’s possible!

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : She really doesn’t like thinking about politics after being absolutely smothered by The Bibliothecs. Very left leaning

EDUCATION  LEVEL : Received a proper education at the Studium in Old Sharlayan, sponsored by a certain Archon. Her interests were too varied to become an Archon and was constantly belittled for her niche areas of study. If she only applied herself...

FAMILY.

FATHER : Barnimonchet Farouel. (Status Unknown)  Archon Barnimonchet was the foremost expert on aetherytes and aetherical travel. Having led repairs to multiple aetheryte systems across Eorzea and a member of the Antitower excursion team, he drifted (literally) quite frequently between the Studium and the colony. Despite his meek nature and tendency to ramble, there is no doubting that he was worthy of the title of Archon.

MOTHER : Nenne Farouel née Phillone (Status Unknown) Archon Nenne was a master in the studies of all things alchemical, including potions, crystal structures, and inks for grimoires and tomes. Her preferred area of study was researching ways to better the body and mind, noting the aetherical compositions of different beings and brewing revitalizing concotions; especially her recent invention which coined the term "Craftman's Tea", creating the recipe as a way to help her husband in his work. She often found herself in the Arboretum gathering ingredients and helping out her fellows tasked with groundskeeping, scolding tones of "Barn!" could be frequently heard echoing through the Telmatology quarter as her husband and formerly mentioned Archon fumbled his way through the vined walkways to visit her.

SIBLINGS : None

EXTENDED  FAMILY : No knowledge of extended blood family. The closest she had to a parental figure was Archon Louisoix who had originally offered to babysit her as a babe when her parents left on orders to study an aetherical disturbance, after which they disappeared. He took on the role as a surrogate parent for her, having no trust in Sharlayan’s current care system. Takes on an older sibling role with the younger scions.

NAME MEANING / S : I named her Reese Peepo because I like Reese’s Pieces and the peepo video was popular at the time. Charalise is a nonsense name I gave her to fit in with why she’s Reese. 

HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ?: none

FAVORITES.

BOOK : She loves history books with any knowledge predating the fourth astral era, and has been known to read the occasional romance novel when no one is looking. Has grown to hate learning about anything Allagan.

DEITY : No specific deity

HOLIDAY : Starlight Celebration

MONTH : October (Fifth umbral moon)

SEASON :  Fall/Winter

PLACE : Urth’s Gift

WEATHER : Rain

SOUND / S: Wind blowing through the trees, crackling of firewood, morning bird calls, the cello

SCENT / S :  Clean laundry, freshly baked goods, flowers, cut grass

TASTE / S :  Savoury, warm spices, nothing too sweet

FEEL / S : Heavy blankets, smooth crystal, soft leaves

ANIMAL / S : All

NUMBER : none

COLORS : Earthy colours and the blue of the ocean on a clear day

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Gardening, sword fighting, art, singing (she usually does it by herself), healing magic

BAD  AT : Staying level headed, opening up, decorating, fashion

TURN  ONS : Honesty, good sense of humour, kindness

TURN  OFFS : Cruelty, making fun of her interests, being ignored, arrogance

HOBBIES : Researching lost civilizations, anything creative, cooking

TROPES : Rage Breaking Point, It Sucks to Be the Chosen One, Big Fucking Sword, Adorkable, Conveniently an Orphan, Friend to All Living Things, Broken Hero,  I Just Want to Be Loved, Badass Bookworm

QUOTES : 

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 : Probably a LOTR-esque high fantasy adventure movie

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 : Lots of cello and choir pieces

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 : She’s basically my self insert but with a little extra Oomph

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 :  She’s basically my self insert

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : She’s not very expressive, she’s not used to being super goofy or anything which I am

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 : Lots

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?          

A7 : Probably pretty chill, would probably go and get pizza together

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?        

A8 : Haurchefant intentionally or unintentionally tends to break her stony facade with his ceaseless flirting and a barrage of compliments which usually ends up with Reese either cracking a little smile or turning beet red and abruptly leaving the room. He brings out the morosexual in her. She instantly becomes brighter than the sun when she’s around anyone far younger than her, switching to a more motherly persona. Alphinaud and Alisaie receive the brunt of her affections before Ryne comes along. Neither will admit to the fact they both actually enjoy it.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse?        

A9 : Honestly       listening to LOZ music since she’s basically Link but a little bit to the left

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete?          

A10 : F.....four days

[todorokiaimee]

Blues In The Night  5. I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

Previous Chapter | Chapter Song

Shoto waited with a cool nervousness as he knocked on Aimee’s apartment door. Tonight was going to be perfect. He knew how he felt about Aimee, hell pretty much everyone he came in contact with knew he was completely smitten. After their lunch date at the school, he at least had a good idea that she felt the same. Why not tell her? He took a moment to adjust his red wool coat and scarf, so that he looked neat and put together, despite his apprehensive thoughts. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal the woman of the hour, Aimee. She wore her signature high-waisted jeans that showed off her wide hips and resulting small waist. Her hot pink off the shoulder sweater caught his eye, a black choker rested around her delicate neck. This silhouette was really growing on him, as he tried to surpress the urge to trace his calloused fingers across her ever alluring collar bone.

Aimee grinned sweetly at him as she slipped on her brown coat. “Hey there, shall we?” Shoto nodded, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs to his car. After a short car ride, they walked into a local ice skating rink filled with children and other couples enjoying their night out. As Shoto paid for their tickets and rental skates, the reality of the moment sank in. This is it. Be cool. Aimee eyed the peppermint haired man carefully, an unusual look in his eye. Is he actually nervous?

After the pair each put on their rented skates, they hobbled over to the door opening to the ice. “Ladies first,” Shoto said with a small smile as he ushered Aimee ahead. “Such a gentleman,” she cooed as she stepped out onto the ice, carefully skating forward, waiting for him to join her. Todoroki stepped out onto the smooth surface, only to be met with shaky legs. Balancing on two thin blades verses his boots was proving to be more difficult than he anticipated. He continued to wobble forward on the ice, in an awkward squatted position, hands outstretched in front of him, in a feeble attempt to maintain his balance. Aimee tried her best to stifle a giggle, watching him struggle. “You ok there, hero?” “I’m just fine,” he muttered as he tried to continue forward. A moment of panic flashed across his eyes as he felt his feet slipping out from under him. He grabbed onto the rink wall for dear life, just barely staying upright. “Uh huh sure…” Aimee snickered as he pulled himself back upright. This was not going how he planned at all, his face growing warmer by the second. “Let go of the wall then.” “I’d rather not.” She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as she continued to watch him. Oh my God, is he actually pouting? “I’m sorry but you are just too cute. I picked this because I thought you’d be good at it. Your quirk is half ice after all!” Shoto cheeks flushed a rosy pink as he tired his best to skate forward. “Yes, but it’s not MY ice,” he huffed with a determined expression on his face. Well, at least she thinks I’m cute, although I would prefer handsome. Damn it, Shoto it’s fucking ice!

Just when he was about to let his inner monologue get the best of him, Aimee offered her small hand to him. “Oh mon cher, come on I got you.” Sheepishly, Shoto took her hand, looking into her glowing brown orbs. Moving to stand beside him, Aimee gently pulled him forward with her. “There you go. Just keep your feet about shoulder width apart, and try not to lean too far forward or back.” Shoto nodded, applying her advice as they slowly glided on the ice. “You’re getting it! Just one foot in front of the other!” Smiling brightly at him, Aimee squeezed his hand, earning a smile from Shoto as well. Even in all of my embarrassment, this woman is a complete joy. Thankfully, Todoroki was a fast learner. They gradually made their way around the rink with Shoto only flailing about like a chicken around five times, falling two. “May I ask you something?” Aimee nodded signaling for him to continue. “You called me ‘mon cher’ earlier. What does it mean?” The dark-skinned beauty let out a soft hum, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Oh, it’s a Cajun-French term of endearment. Like ‘my dear’ or… ‘my love’.” Now it was Shoto’s turn to blush yet again. “Oh.” he paused, shyly squeezing her hand. “I like it.”  

Just when Shoto was about to really gain some confidence, he leaned forward too far, causing him to trip on the toe pick of his skates. To keep himself from falling forward, he jerked himself backward, only to fall flat on his back, pulling Aimee down with him. A scream filled his ears as he watched helplessly as she fell straight on her full bottom. She bounced. Shoto scrambled onto his hands and knees, feverishly crawling over to the fallen beauty. “My apologies, that was entirely my fault. Are you hurt?” A positively giddy belly laugh left Aimee’s lips, making her whole upper body jiggle, as Shoto looked on dumbfounded. “I’m perfectly fine!” she said between giggles. “Besides I have plenty of cushion back there if you haven’t noticed,” she smacked the side of her ass jokingly as she moved to stand back up. Of course, Shoto had noticed. He had tried many times to be a gentleman and not notice, but once again, impure thoughts had crept into his mind. As Aimee brushed off her jeans she looked over at the duel quirked hero, still sitting on the ice. His face was a deep red and she could see steam coming up from the left side of his body. Uh oh. I broke him. “Careful now.” She took both his hands, pulling him up to his feet. “We wouldn’t want to turn the ice rink into a swimming pool.” Crap, now I have an image of her in a swimsuit in my head. Even more steam escaped his left side at the thought, Aimee carefully angling herself to his right. Calm down, Shoto. What are you, a horny teenager?  “How about we take a break and grab something from the food court?” Aimee suggested with a kind smile. He nodded as they skated to the edge of the rink, stepping off of the ice.

After taking off their skates, Shoto was relieved to be back in his own familiar boots again. Having regained some of his dignity, he offered his arm to Aimee, which she gladly linked with hers. They walked over to a food stand in a comfortable silence and Shoto ordered some negima yakitori for the two of them to share, paying before Aimee could even reach for her wallet. He carried the food and two green teas over to an empty booth, the two sliding in opposite each other. The juicy thigh meat of the chicken was just what the doctor ordered, Aimee not realizing how hungry she actually was.

Shoto cleared his throat after he took a bite off of his own skewer. “How did you learn to skate? You seem fairly confident on the ice.” He watched her carefully as a sad look washed over her eyes. “My mom taught me. We used to go all the time when I was little,” She paused taking a sip of her tea. “I stopped going as much after she died.” Shoto hummed suddenly regretting his topic of choice. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Aimee smiled softly and shook her head. “No worries. It was a long time ago. I still have my Dad as well as my cat Mochi. My little bit of family.” He nodded, taking another bite of his food. “Ah yes, the comically large cat.” “How did you know Mochi was fat?” Shit. I’ve said too much. No use in lying to her. “I may have… looked you up on Instagram.”  A cheeky smirk, grew on Aimee’s face as she watched Todoroki shift nervously in his seat. He looked me up, huh? “Well, you gotta know who you’re dealing with, right? I’ll let it slide considering I may have been reading articles about you ever since you went pro,” she admitted, not wanting the sweet lamb to suffer for too long.

Shoto raised his eyebrows in surprise, “You read articles about me?” He watched as a beautiful blush crept onto her cheeks. “Well, yeah. You are my favorite hero after all,” She said in a hushed voice. I’m her favorite? Shoto couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. “I’m honored.”

The pair continued to talk in effortless conversation until they noticed the rink and food court was starting to close for the night. Completely enamored with each other, the time had simply slipped away from them.

The two left the rink hand in hand, walking toward Shoto’s lone car. Looking around the now empty parking lot, Shoto got a fantastic idea. “Wait. Stay here just a moment.” Shoto walked further into the parking lot as Aimee eyed him questionably. He took a deep breath, activating his quirk, coating the parking lot with a sheet of ice, creating his own personal ice rink. Gliding back over to Aimee, he outstretched his hand with a small smile, “Take my hand.” Aimee hesitated, looking down at her boots. “I can’t, I don’t have my skates on. I’ll bust my ass.” Shoto let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Trust me. I won’t let you fall.” “Okay…” Aimee smirked skeptically as she slipped her hand into his once again. Holding her hand, Shoto gently guided her onto the ice, pulling her back to press against his chest, his other arm wrapping around her waist to keep her steady. A familiar warmth gathered on Aimee’s cheeks. She had never been this close to him before. She closed her eyes taking in his subtle scent of cedarwood and mint. Is this heaven?

Shoto effortlessly glided over his ice with Aimee securely in his arms. The cool fall air tousled their locks as he took them around the parking lot. Aimee felt almost as if she were flying. This was nothing like how it was in the ice rink. No wonder he loves his ice so much. Aimee’s face was one of pure amazement and Shoto couldn’t look away. She had never looked more beautiful to him, with her eyes filled with a childlike wonder. A sense of accomplishment washed over him, as he held her close. This is how our date should have gone from the beginning. He couldn’t help the warm smile that spread across his face, hearing Aimee’s lovely giggle erupt from her throat. “Oh my God, this is incredible Todo...ro...ki…” The ravenette paused as she looked over her shoulder to peer at Todoroki’s face only to find his steely eyes already locked onto hers. His stare left her breathless and she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She watched as his eyes slowly flickered from hers, down to her lips and back again. Shoto couldn’t hold himself back a moment longer as his hand left her waist and gently cupped her chin, tilting it up to plant a soft sweet kiss on her pink pillowed lips. Her plump lips were even softer than he imagined and tasted faintly of cherry. Aimee melted into the kiss immediately, wanting to live in this moment forever. Her heart raced in her chest, as he slowly deepened the kiss, their lips moving skillfully against each other. Her hand slowly skated up his bicep, gripping it gently to keep herself from completely melting onto the ground.

Shoto reluctantly pulled away, not wanting to push things too far too soon, smoothly coming to a stop on the ice. A knowing smirk tugged at his lips as he took in Aimee’s utterly dazed expression and adorable pink blush. “Please, call me Shoto.” Aimee blinked comically slow, somewhat drunk on her own endorphins as she quipped, “I’ll call you whatever you want if we can keep doing that.”  A chuckle rumbled low in Shoto’s chest as he twirled her around to face him fully. “In that case… how do you feel about calling me ‘boyfriend?’” “Huh?” Aimee must have heard him wrong. Pro Hero Todoroki Shoto couldn’t have just asked her to be his girlfriend. Right? Shoto took both her hands into his, holding them close to his chest. “Aimee, I want you to mine. That is if you’ll have me.” Aimee’s large brown eyes slowly grew bigger as she took in his words, another sly thought taking over. “Bold of you to assume I’m something to be had.” Shit, I fucked this up! Todoroki began to panic, his left side quickly gaining heat from embarrassment. It wasn’t until he looked back down at Aimee that he noticed her ever-growing shit-eating grin before another glorious giggle escaped her lips. “Of course I’ll be yours, Pretty Boy.” This woman. Shoto let out a deep sigh of relief before chuckling to himself. “God, I love that smart mouth.” Before Aimee could give another smart ass comment, her lips were once again captured by his, as he snaked his arms around her, pulling her close. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she happily returned the kiss, the second of many to come.

Commission drawing by @mexi-doodler 

Chapter 6

[radialarch]

“Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.”

tagged by eve @montpahrnah <333 this is a great meme because i am thinking about whether/how much i like my writing at pretty much all times.  and because my favorite part of reccing fic is finding works that are comparatively underappreciated to share, gonna keep in the same spirit here:

between the instant of a wreck | yuri!!! on ice | chris/victor | 7k

hey hey, fucked up injury fic. i‘m very fond of this one because it’s about a relationship that was always going to fail.  i wanted to write about the kind of miscommunication that can happen because people aren’t perfect and talking is hard; about characters who fall together and fall apart and manage to, in the end, stumble into an equilibrium that works for the both of them.  i also wanted to draw this in a complex way -- people in this fic deal with problems messily and sometimes badly, and i wanted them to remain sympathetic because they’re not bad people, they're just young and human.  i don’t think i did this perfectly, but the way it is now does a fairly good job, and i’m proud of how it came out.

scene in monochrome | yuri!!! on ice | victor/yuuri | 1k

smoking fic!  i don’t smoke, but my parents did for a long time, and as a result i have a lot of sense memories attached to the act of smoking -- the sound of the lighter, the tip of the cigarette brightening on an inhale, the shape of the smoke as it’s breathed out, the scent of it mixed with the cold wind on the balcony.  i wanted to evoke that experience here, and, judging by the number of (ex-)smokers who’ve dropped me a line (♥), it seems to have worked at least somewhat.  i also like the language in here a lot; normally i’m a pretty utilitarian writer, my sentences go straight from point a to b, but this fic gets across the texture of the scene in my head pretty well.  i vaguely try not to archive pieces shorter than 1k on ao3, but i cleaned this up anyway because of how much i like it.

catharsis through art (or something like it) | captain america | steve/bucky | 3k

this is art museum fic, which i think i started before cacw came out but didn’t finish until a while after.  i like this because everyone has something going on.  one of the issues i have with my writing is that i tend to be very direct, both on the sentence-level and plot-level, and a lot of times this results in stories almost claustrophobically focused on just one or two characters.  i always struggle with creating something that feels richer, more fleshed out, so i like how steve and bucky are going through their issues here, but so is sam; so are sam’s friends; and so are, at the very periphery, sam’s family.  there’s a sense of connectedness from this particular story to, i think, the universe it lives in, and i’m proud of that because i don’t achieve it as often as i’d like.

nothing but death | captain america | steve/bucky | 3k

ah, time loop au. i wrote this pretty early in my foray into cap fandom, which means that i was still playing around with the concept of memory; of the body retaining records etched in itself while the mind forgets.  i think this is the first time i applied it to catfa instead of more straightforwards post-catws stories, and i like this because of all the ways that canon scenes get recontextualized here.  i write a lot of canon-adjacent fic, stories that loosely follow the arc of canon with some elements changed, and so i worry pretty often about whether the fic feels like a beat-by-beat retelling of the story that the reader already knows.  this is, i think, a mixture of the familiar and new in a way that’s both interesting and a little bit unsettling, so i like it even if the concept is at heart like, really fucking depressing.

like shadows on skin | captain america | steve/bucky | 2k

so obviously i keep track of fics by conceit instead of name, but this is -- well, it’s “steve rogers is a mess and also gets beaten up a lot”, which is not at all descriptive.  this mixes a lot of my interests, like characters who are pretty fucked in the head and repression to the point where feelings become physical.  i wanted to write about steve asking for help, which is hard, and letting himself surrender, which is harder, but i like the way it came out and i like the sense of physicality, the way it breaks against steve until he finally lets go.

ahaha this was a self-indulgent but really fun exercise, gonna tag @pearlo @dadvans @winchilsea @rcmclachlan @newsbypostcard @emilianadarling @shinelikethunder @notcaycepollard and @okaynowkiss